


Missing pieces

by TrishaCollins



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: (SO what the EU kids can exist to you can't stop me), Anguished force ghost, Ben is a kid, F/M, Gen, Han Solo was not the best dad but he TRIED damnit, Jaina and Jason and Anakin are also children, Paaaarrranoia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:54:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21870391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishaCollins/pseuds/TrishaCollins
Summary: There is something terribly wrong with Ben Solo (Spoilers for ROS, maybe?)
Relationships: Leia Organa & Ben Solo & Han Solo, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

There was something wrong with it. Nobody said so, exactly. Not in so many words. But it was the way his uncle looked at him, a shadow in his eyes that wasn’t there when he looked at Jaina or Jason. There was a little press to his momma’s lips when he leaned too hard into the force around his siblings, the way her hands sometimes pulled away. 

It was an absence at his side, something he knew was missing, horribly missing. Like the empty spot in the force where uncle Luke’s hand should have been. 

But mostly, he knew something was wrong with him because of the nightmares. He had always had them, as long as he could remember. Breathing, artificial, horrible, whispering, scolding, dark things that woke him up crying and muffling his screaming into his pillow so as not to wake anyone. 

The whispers told him he wasn’t right, the nightmares told him what was wrong.

Even if he couldn’t understand it.

Momma was having another baby, her stomach was rounding with it. He wasn’t to touch, but he was curious about his sibling. Curious as he had been for Jaina and Jason, who grew around and through each other like kudzu vines, looping and twisting until nobody could tell where one ended and the other one started. 

They were playing under the watchful eye of Chewie, picking up stones and leaves and piling them together. 

“What’s wrong, bud?” 

He blew out a breath, fingers twisting on the support strut. “Nothing.”

Dad knelt down next to him, fingers running through his hair. It was dark, curly and prone to tangles. So was Jaina’s, but momma combed through Jaina’s every night, and braided it. 

Probably the new baby would be a boy. He felt it. Knew it, like at a distant. There was a deep dissatisfaction with the new baby. It wasn’t what he was missing, and he had hoped it might be. The missing piece that soothed his jagged edge.  
“Ben?” Dad’s voice was gentle. 

“The baby isn’t my piece.” He said, slowly, so the words didn’t run together or vanish into mumbles. 

“Piece?” Dad asked. 

Dad didn’t see the wrong thing the way Momma and Uncle did. Dad was dim, but there, but he never seemed to know the things that momma did. 

“I’m missing something.” He said, sad, confused.

It was part of what was wrong with him, that missing piece. He thought so, even if the voice didn’t say so.

Dad knelt down and poked him in the shoulder.

The contact startled him, and he swung wounded eyes towards his father. 

Han hummed for a moment, then poked him in the other shoulder. Then right between the eyes, and on his nose, then his chin, until every part of him had been poked. “Looks like you’re all there to me.”

He giggled, startled. “Dad.”

“Ah, there you are.” Dad ruffled his hair again, tapping his nose with a fingertip. 

He poked his tongue out, and dad laughed. “Yep. Seems like you’re in working order to me, kiddo.” 

He made a face. “In the force, dad. I’m missing part of me in the force.” 

Dad huffed. “Well, if you are, I guess you’ll find it. Right?”

He considered that for a moment. Dad wasn’t like Uncle Luke, who got wane and serious when they talked about things like this. He wasn’t mom either, who sometimes looked like she wanted to cry. “But how do I find it?”

“Well. I’d say you don’t worry about it, and it will resolve itself eventually.” Dad tugged him against his side, fluffing his hair into a hopeless mess of tangles. “I’m going to have to get one of Chewie’s combs to deal with this nest, Ben.”

He liked the thought of that, sending one last glance at Chewie and his siblings. “Can we?”

Dad went a little stiff next to him, but just for a moment. “Sure, kiddo. Come on. We have enough hair products to take care of everything.” 

And dad picked him up, which nobody did anymore. But dad didn’t know about the look that Momma and Uncle Luke shared, he didn’t care, maybe.

He snuggled into his father’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his neck, soothing the missing piece through contact.

Dad carried him back into the Falcon, which meant they missed the speeder coming back, and Uncle Luke jumping out to check on the twins while Leia wrung her hands.

Ben, by then, was calm. Sitting at his father’s feet, hair being made to behave in some semblance of order. The force, too, was quiet around him.  
He would catch the whispers, soft, soothing. His name, repeated, as if from a great distance.

_Ben, Ben, please listen. Ben._

But he wasn’t looking, and his father couldn’t see, and Anakin was spending so much of his energy to try to get through the miasma that was surrounding his eldest grandchild that neither of his children could see him either. But he was there, kneeling on the ground of the ship, reaching out to the boy with a desperate sort of intent to push beyond it. 

_Ben. Ben. Ben listen._

It was a clever trick, to disguise the darkness as the boy’s own force presence, tainted since birth. 

It meant that the Skywalker twins, no matter how powerful, could not see the child drowning in their midst.


	2. Chapter 2

He jammed his fingers in his ears, head stuffed under the pillow. 

It didn't help. The baby was still crying, the sympathetic echoes in the force made his head hurt. 

_Stop, stop, stop, STOP!_

Everything went still, quiet, and he could breathe for a moment, deep, gasping breathes that made his lungs hurt. 

Then momma's wrath came arrowing for him through the force, and he could feel the heat behind it. 

He scrambled out of bed, running for the window and clawing at the frame. 

"-ia! Stop, Leia, stop, it's just Ben." Dad's presence was calmer, confused, a bit alarmed. But it was calm. Calm on the raw nerves that screamed that he was in danger. 

"He was try-"

"Trying to make the baby quiet." Han's voice was sure, quiet. "He's been fussy, you've been upset about it too. He's seven, Leia, he wasn't trying to do anything."

His mother's presence was angry, aggrieved, salt on his fear. 

"Luke said-"

"Luke doesn't know everything. He's a kid. He's just a little boy." 

He wanted to be somewhere else, but the window would not open. It couldn’t. It was in space, if he opened the window it would decompress. 

_Ben!_ The voice tucked at him, muffled despite the shouting. Muffled, despite the fact that he knew it yelled for him.

Closer still were more intense yelling, whispering voice that made demands of him, promised him something? But he didn’t want anything except to get away. 

“Ben!” The voice had a weird quality to it, but the hands that gripped his shoulders felt weird, he turned, almost lashing out in his panic.

But his hand passed through the figure, glowing blue that it was. A kind, concerned, well lined face leaned close to his. “Ben. It’s alright. It’s alright.” Fingers stroked his hair, cradled his face.

He shivered, but the figure was warm, safe. “I have to go.” He sobbed out, finally stepping forward to clutch at the figure. 

Blue arms closed around him, the glow seeming to seep into him. “Shhhh. Why do you have to go?”

“I did it wrong. I hurt the baby. I’m bad.” Even if he couldn’t hit, he could bury his face against his shoulder. It felt real, more real than anything else. 

“You didn’t hurt him, Ben. He’s alright. Just startled. Your mother was startled too.”

He shook his head. “She’s mad. She hates me. Uncle Luke too.”

The man glanced at the door, something tired coming over him. “They do not hate you.” Fingers cradled his chin, lifting him. It felt like the screaming was very far away. 

“I’m missing a piece.” He whispered. “There’s something wrong with me.” 

Gently, the man pressed two fingers to his breastbone. “Alright, Ben.” 

It felt like the hole in him wasn’t quite so big anymore, like something warm and sure had filled it instead. He felt his body relax, chest easing, the constant nagging sense was gone.

And then his bedroom was too, he was standing in – maybe a tent? And the air was dry, hot against his cheeks even if he could see a ‘Fresher working to keep the room as cool as possible. 

There was a baby on the rug, fast asleep, barely as old as his new brother. He stepped forward, feeling the blue man press a hand on his shoulder. 

“Oh.” He knelt down next to her, extending his hand out to the baby. She was wrapped tightly in a little blanket, soft texture against his fingers.

But he touched her little hand, curled against the blanket, and for the first time in his life he felt peace. 

_Home_

“What-who!?” A woman ran forward, reaching for her baby – and then she paused. She stared between him and the blue man, confusion furrowing her brow. “Lord Vader?”

“Sheeran.” The ghost inclined his head slightly. “My grandson, Ben.”

She glanced at him, an almost uncomfortable look settling on her features. “Ben. Hello. I-“ She slid her hands under the baby, who was still blissfully asleep. “My daughter. Rey.”

“She is lovely, Sheeran.” Lord Vader told her fondly. “Ben has felt drawn to her, I brought him to see her.”

“Oh.” The woman gave him an uncertain smile. She looked normal enough, plainly dressed like some of the refugees he had met, with her hair braided back in a way that made him remember something. “Well, Ben, would you like to hold her?” 

Startled, her gazed at the woman. “You aren’t afraid?”

Her smile warmed. “Why would I be afraid when I see you keeping such good company? Your grandfather saved my life, you know.” She placed the baby in his arms, closing them around her, one hand resting softly on his elbow. “If he thinks you should meet her, then you should meet her.” 

“My mom doesn’t let me hold the baby.” He admitted, staring down at the one in his arms. She was soft, sort of pudgy. Like Jaina, maybe. Only smaller. 

Her mother looked at the blue man, clearly concern on her features. “Lord Vader…?”

“It is alright. I can reach him now.” 

Sheeran nodded slightly, brushing her fingers over his head. “When I was your age, I was scared all of the time.” She told him. “It wasn’t until Lord Vader and his apprentice helped me get away that I felt safer.” 

“Did he help you like me?”

“Well, he was alive then. So he didn’t need to.” She smiled fondly at the blue man. “But he did take me across the galaxy and hide me away. In a way, he is the reason we have Rey.” 

He blinked at her, and looked back at the man – at Lord Vader – “Why did you bring me?”

“To show you. Yoda would disaaprove.” The man was rubbing his jaw, thoughtfully. “Leia likely won’t forgive me. But. If only for the moment, I could reach you. It seems much safer to do it when I can.”

He frowned. “Why couldn’t you feel me before?”

“I could.” Lord Vader knelt down. “But you couldn’t hear me. There was something between us. Something keeping us from connecting. I can still feel it. But you broke through it.” 

He felt the last of the tension ease out of him, and plopped down on his butt, eyes closing tightly as he hugged the baby girl close to him. 

He was whole.


End file.
